


Never Doubt I Love

by FilmsAreFriends



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 05:27:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4552374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FilmsAreFriends/pseuds/FilmsAreFriends
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is my soul mate AU fic! I've been writing this forever. This was actually the first fic I started but now It's become a huge thing. It might take some time to finish but I am excited! A huge special thanks to thefirstfewchapters for being my lovely beta. Check out her stories, she rocks. </p><p>I also need to thank Lady_of_the_Refrigerator because if it weren't for their soulmate AU series, I wouldn't have gotten this wonderful plot idea. Check out his stories. Seriously. They kick ass and are better than this one. </p><p>If you're not familiar with the soulmate AU universe, don't worry. Mine is pretty different and I actually laid it out in a prologue because I wanted it to make sense to you and me too. </p><p>So, I hope you enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The Universe

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Indelible Ink](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1573754) by [Lady_of_the_Refrigerator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_of_the_Refrigerator/pseuds/Lady_of_the_Refrigerator). 



Prologue

During the Enlightenment, a panic struck the world. 

The Europeans were the first to experience it, and suffered the most, before gradually they began to see it as a blessing. No one understood it at the time; young men and women simply began waking up with strange markings on their bodies. Words, in all different languages on different parts of everyone's body. The language wasn’t necessarily the person’s native language and the parts of the body that were affected varied from person to person. However, nothing else happened, and they didn’t become physically ill, but it was as if all the young people were being christened into something. 

It wasn't long before the significance of the words became very clear. It seemed the words would be spoken by someone who would become very significant to the individual who had them on their body. As time progressed, more was found out about this phenomenon.

It became known as the Soul Mate Tattoo. 

It was discovered that by eighteen years of age, a human knew the first words their soul mate would say to them. All they needed to do was look at their tattoo. Once someone met their soul mate, they had to "blend". If a human had forged a relationship with another--a strong attachment with someone who was not their true soul mate--the blend could not be achieved. The risk of partaking in a relationship outside of one's soul mate was heavy. There was a counter-culture of people who hadn't met their soul mate that bonded over the absence. While some soul mates just remained best friends, others were lovers. Lovers had a far stronger connection, but it all depended on the soul mates. Complicated emotional relationships still existed; just as in a regular relationship, soul mate bonds had to be built, they required work and patience, understanding and cooperation. 

The two who were going to blend had to be mentally and physically prepared to accept the other. The blend took some time to prepare for, some cases took mere hours, others took years--all cases were different. There were extremely rare cases of soul mates not blending until just before death. The blend made the two into one. Their memories intertwined and they could communicate without speaking. After blending, once one soul mate had passed away, the other was sentenced to life as a "single". When one became a single, all the benefits of a soul mate were gone. Most singles agreed that having their soul mate and losing them was better than never knowing them at all. To have loved but have lost and such. 

Scientists tried to explain the phenomenon. They tried to argue that the tattoos were a result of a scientific discovery involving genetics during the Enlightenment, and that major governments and societies implemented it to keep their people in check--to keep their people distracted from the wrongs of these greater powers while they were focused on finding their soul mate. What scientists couldn't explain, however, was the pull, how the blend really worked, how one soul mate knew what the other was thinking. Skeptics said that it was all a placebo effect. Religious groups argued that God recognized the Enlightenment as a major step toward his vision for mankind. They said He gave it to His people as a means to progress, and gave his children soul mates as a gift. The connection was strong and soul mates provided relief and happiness to their partners.

When someone had found their soul mate, almost nothing could stop them from achieving their full potential. There were cases of people who were already great scientists, but who then made far more important and major discoveries after finding their soul mate. Others just became smarter, stronger, and happier. 

Raymond Reddington and Elizabeth Keen were no exception to that rule.


	2. You'll Always be a monster

Nothing was different when she woke up that day.

Excited,  
a little nervous--  
but she had studied hard.

She was confident she would rise through the ranks and be all she wanted to be.

She had Tom, Sam, and, soon, there would be a child.

Elizabeth Keen--on top of what life was supposed to be--

what success meant in theory.

The leaves fell off the trees when she met Raymond Reddington.

Swinging away in the helicopter, not knowing it would turn out to be the most important day of her life.

She laid eyes on him, wasn't very impressed. She'd studied him briefly at Quantico,

but so little was known about the man,  
the armored-in-a-finely-tailored-suit man.

Anything she had on him was all an arbitrary cacophony of homework, lectures, and case files.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She absorbed his first words to her for a while, surprisingly calm, no way out of what had just been established.

She responded, shaky and uncertain.

He offered her a genial smile--continued without a beat.

He was soaring inside.

Their path had been set.

Never enough for him--his money, his properties, his few loyal friends.

But Lizzie.

That was enough for him.

His love that he chained away somewhere in a dark recess of his mind became sweeter.

They let him out of the box and into a new prison.

She wouldn't be safe. Never again.

Not running-in-the-yard-with-Sam safe.

Not cuddled with her rabbit under warm blankets safe.

Never again. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She came to him. She found out about Tom,

and she came to him.

Holding her in his arms, crying for her life--

waiting for the melted water to freeze again.

The only person she trusted, the only one who hadn't betrayed her, her constant--

number four.

Her feelings for Tom lingered, a shadow out of time. 

His heart was calm,  
his mind wasn't racing for a change.

Cradling her silently, placing wet kisses in her hair--

He wanted to blend so badly.

"Everything is going to be alright."

He was trying to reassure himself, too.

"You're going to be fine."

He would make sure that nothing would happen to her. That she would never leave him. He would have done anything to stay like that forever, holding her in his arms. He knew he was strong--strong enough for both of them. It sometimes astounded him that all he would have to do was think of her and he would be overcome with happiness, with peace. He couldn't describe how holding her felt. He only knew he never wanted it to end. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“If music be the food of love, play on,  
Give me excess of it; that surfeiting,  
The appetite may sicken, and so die.”  
-William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night

 

He was in a panic.

A vile and disgusting man had Liz and was ready and willing to torture and kill her. He just wanted to hold her in his arms and protect her every second of every day. He was swearing to himself in his mind. He couldn't let Luli or Dembe see him struggle. As he dialed the dog rescue to find her location, he felt a pain in his shoulder, he felt her--she was in pain. Their soul mate connection was beginning to have an effect on him that he hadn’t foreseen. To feel her...slipping under his skin, brushing against his soul, was taking some getting used to. It was a slow thing. Inch by inch.

"My heart, it's pounding, and I'm having trouble breathing." It was more truth than he had spoken in a while. In his mind he added "and I'm scared" to the end of his statement. This was something else that he wasn't used to. For so long he had only had to worry about his own pain, his own suffering...but now that he had met his soul mate, now that he had met Elizabeth Keen and discovered that she was the one, things were suddenly and dramatically different.

He was dizzy, he was devastated, he just wanted to see her again, it was the only thing that calmed him down as they neared the cabin. 

He said her name to assure himself that it was all real, that he had actually made it to her in time. He had to touch her, he had to. His fingertips were drawn to her long hair, it reminded him of thick grass in the summer. He was blinded by rage and forgot ever killing the Stew Maker. He just wanted it to be over, for her to be safe.

Ghosts could walk through walls, but Raymond Reddington could walk through fire for Elizabeth Keen. Her image was burned into his eyes, he could only see her warm face, her wispy hair. It all crashed together in a burn of rage in his fingertips.

When he saw her, he wanted to cry, he wanted to kill, he wanted her so far away from anything that could cause her more pain. He tried to only touch her when necessary, laying his hand on her head brought him the strength to kill the man that had taken her.

The farmer was him. He wanted The Stew Maker to know who he was. He wanted him to realize that he never had a shot at beating Raymond Reddington. Beyond who he was as a criminal, beyond his cologne and verbose stories, he wanted him to know the man that killed him, the man who sacrificed everything, and who wasn't willing to sacrifice anything else anymore.

She didn't have her destiny printed on her when she was a child, when he saved her from the fire, when he took her to Sam, when he fell in love from far away. In a way, he was glad that someone like her would be taking some of him, he needed to be relieved of some of it at least. Having someone know exactly what he had done without him having to re-live it all in a long conversation, it seemed too good for him. But horrendous for her.

Their relationship was all too one-sided at present. Which, he supposed, was understandable. He had to earn her trust. They might be soul mates and have the spiritual connection that seemed to be ordained, but anything else on top of that, he would have to work hard to achieve. He tried at every turn to bring her around, to show her that he wasn't going anywhere, that she could trust him. He would usually hang his head in failure after leaving her. He sent texts and signed his name every time, he called to see how she was. 

"You're a monster."

She was right. He didn't blame her for trying to distance herself from his pain and the brutal wrath that he bestowed on others. He kept telling her that he would do whatever he could to keep her alive, but he knew better than anyone that being alive meant nothing. He wanted her to live, to be happy.  
His goal was never to make her existence pale and unbearable. And yet...he saw the horrible irony in that. Her happiness was his truest concern and yet he was her soul mate, so if they blended she would see everything he had ever done. And that would require tremendous strength to bear. And could make her suffering even greater. 

He saw her tattoo after their ordeal. He wanted her to see it as a testament, as a proclamation that he would do whatever necessary to keep her on Earth with him. But he knew that people would never do as he wished, and he couldn't force them. 

It only made him more upset that the woman he had loved for so long would be in for a plethora of pain with him. He remained hopeful when he left her, getting in the car and joking with Dembe and Luli, his family. He wanted Lizzie to be his family, too. Even if he had to kill everyone in his path to make her his. He thought about one of his favorite songs by The Beatles, "Golden Slumbers". He always thought of Lizzie when he heard it. He knew that there once an easier way to "get back homeward", but he lost to the fates and was sentenced to a life as a criminal. He was convinced his time for change was up, but he still held the fantasy of Lizzie being his second chance, his home. 

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Red sat next to Agent Ressler, who cried out in pain. Anslo Garrick was lurking outside while plotting his revenge. Red shrugged off the thought of all the people in the world he'd rather lose his life to and listened to Donald's cries. They went nowhere beyond that dreaded box, Red thought, the only person that felt his pain at that moment was his soul mate, Audrey.

His soul mate.

Red looked down at him, now passed out, and his eyes fell to his tattoo. Red thought it was small and insignificant compared to the one he himself had. On Ressler's neck the words seemed mocking and cold: "Well, I can't say I want to be on a date right now after the day I've had." Red laughed, thinking Ressler must have gone on plenty of dates to find Audrey.

Red wanted so badly for his soul mate to be a friend, not a lover. Any lover of his would be in too much danger. He had fallen in love--his wife was radiant, wonderful--she knew exactly how to hurt him, and exactly how to make him happy. They had a wonderful daughter together, and he felt more complete than ever. When they were killed, he lost it all. Red never thought he would give everything in his heart, give his life, or burn down the world for anything or anyone ever again.

Until Elizabeth Keen. His soul mate.

They hadn't blended yet, she was still in love with Tom. He hadn't even brought it up because he was scared she would run. She wasn't ready for him. He felt ready for her, though. It wasn't very strong just yet, but he was certainly feeling the pull. That's why he tried to touch her all the time, to see if the blend would happen--something that was essential to their survival. He loved her more than anything. He would have endured hellish torture, physical or emotional, over and over again if it meant that she would live and live well.

One day, he thought, we'll blend, and she'll know everything--about me and Tom, about what a monster I really am--and then she'll run away even if it means our deaths. He knew that she was just avoiding it for as long as possible. She covered her tattoo all the time, she even bought thick bangles to cover her wrist.

He needed her, and he felt that she needed him now more than ever. He wanted to guide her, to feel her bones soften under his touch, he wanted her to melt in his embrace, he wanted to feel the wetness of her joyful tears over his heart. As he was snapped back to reality by Garrick's voice, he vowed that if he made it out of there alive, he would talk to her.

The coming year they spent together saw his vow come and go, unfulfilled, until the day she gave him the fulcrum. That's when things began to change.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I can't recognize myself lately, I'm someone I used to know. I think you took me with you, and I was hoping you could just leave me somewhere else. Because I've been waiting for myself, waiting for all the pieces to come home." -R.M. Drake 

 

She wondered if it was possible to love two men at once. Tom was familiar and flexible. She could make him whatever she wanted him to be, whatever she needed at the time, Tom fed into her and gave up. She surmised it was because he had no true identity, he was a shape-shifter, a magician that tricked everyone into buying tickets to his act. 

But Raymond...Raymond Reddington. He was horror, and passion, spontaneity-and anger. He was no one but who he wanted to be. The man was dangerous, but tender. He was composed, but emotionally torn. Tom was her past, and she somehow wanted to merge the good they had together with her future; her future that had everything and nothing to do with Red. 

He was her soul mate. 

She was scared, just like him. She knew the blend was coming, she finally had begun to feel the pull. Tom was gone, he had come back in search of his passports just when she was starting to adjust. She kissed him for the last time, and she knew that it was over. If she ever saw him in passing, she thought he would be so lucky to even get a look from her. He was a fraud--he weaseled his way in, got what he wanted, and left her to fend for herself. She tried time and again to tell herself to stop feeling, to force herself to become indifferent toward him. Her stone-faced conversations with him conveyed all that she wanted to convey, but never how she really felt. She was indefinitely confused. 

Then he told her about Red.

She sat in the warehouse after Tom left. She was furious, hurt, betrayed--she was feeling so much, and so little all at once. She wanted it all to end in that moment. She wanted to leave without blending with Red. She was skeptical he had anything but more pain to offer her.

One could say that she loved Red. It wasn't quite romantic, but it was a necessity. She needed her closeness with him to survive, she needed the one person who ruined her life to save it. Tom never offered her redemption. Red constantly spoke of second chances and righting wrongs to save instead of kill. She wanted to be like him. She felt her past was a mistake, she wanted them to just go away, to fade and disappear like water vapor. But that wasn't possible. Together, they had a shot at redemption, a second chance. Maybe it wouldn't be normal, maybe it wouldn't even be terribly comfortable or convenient; but her whole life felt that way. She'd never know if she didn't try. 

But after Tom told her, she wasn't so sure what Red felt about her. Hiring Tom meant that Red had treated her like a Barbie doll, forcing her into a life with a monster, just like he was. She was surrounded by Red. Nothing was hers anymore. His ominous presence over everything in her life strangled her.

As she arrived in her dingy motel room, her mind was still racing. She didn't know if she could really escape Red, if she could leave and bear the distance. She wondered if she would be the one that died. She had become too comfortable with the idea of dying, even without blending with Red. She did love him, but there was so little of her left. She felt empty...blank. 

When she started at the Post Office, Harold Cooper asked her to profile herself. She thought how she would respond to him now. The only thing she could think to say was that she had become a book without pages. She was an empty vessel, going through the motions and waiting for something else to break her. She thought that Red was her last salvation. He once told her that she was his second chance, and now he had become her second chance. Everything was different now, the Red she knew didn't exist. Just like Tom. She thought there was no way he could possibly care about her, even if they were soul mates.

Liz retrieved the fulcrum from her stuffed bunny, picked up her phone and knew there was no turning back. She thought about Red's tattoo, in the same place as her own, usually covered by his watch. Sometimes he would flaunt it proudly in front of her. She hated him for it, but she knew why he did it. She was his, and he never wanted her to forget. She remembered his face when she said her first words to him: "Well, I'm here". Green eyes shining proudly, an element of surprise, but he was comfortable.

She dialed Nick's Pizza, for what she assumed would be the last time.


	3. Stay With Me

"Reddington."

"Lizzie, now isn't the best-"

"I need to see you."

There was urgency and hurt in her voice that he didn't like. He would have to ignore the immediate threat, Lizzie needed him. He once told her that wherever he was, if she needed him, he would be there. Red was a man of his word.

"Meet me at the corner of 14th and E," he said with regret. He really didn't want to be putting her in unnecessary danger. 

"I'll be there in 10 minutes."

"Lizzie...please be careful."

He hung up before she could respond.

Lizzie was confused, she was worried. Most of all, she didn't want Red to beat her to the punch on this one. She wanted to say goodbye to him, he didn't get that right in their relationship.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Liz pulled up to the meeting place and Red was looking everywhere but at her. He looked uncomfortable, it was the first time she hadn't seen Red look perfectly content. The man had a way of adjusting--whether he was holding a gun to someone's head or someone was holding a gun to his, he looked right at home. This was different, but it didn't diminish her anger and contempt. She grabbed the suitcase and flew out of her car, not waiting for Red to greet her, she began as coldly as she possibly could.

"I need you to answer a question: yes or no?"

"I suppose I could do that if I knew the question."

She wasn't in the mood for his games.

"Did you hire Tom Keen?"

He hesitated a moment. He had never wanted to kill Tom more in his life. He had faced many truths in the last two years. And now, in the middle of his life threatening situation, Red had to tell his soul mate that he had controlled her life from the start. So much for blending.

"Yes."

Her heart dropped. She called him a monster so many times, she always used the excuse that it was in moments of weakness. But now he really was a monster. Her thoughts bounced in her head, unable to find an exit. She could feel herself getting warmer, she felt the tears in the back of her throat. She had to get out of there, she didn't care about the other answers he had.

"Lizzie, please let me explain. I-"

"Don't bother, this is over. Here, just take this and go."

She threw the fulcrum forward and turned around before he had a grip on it. He knew if he didn't say something now, she would be gone forever.

"Lizzie, please."

She wanted to think that time froze. But it didn't. It didn't move faster to spare her the pain, it happened, and she watched it happen. The tears that she held came back up.

Red collapsed, there was so much blood. Dembe ran to Red's side after grabbing the fulcrum and shoving it in his pocket. Lizzie was already putting pressure on the hole in his chest. 

"Red, stay with me."

He was vomiting up blood--she rolled him on his side and cradled his face. Dembe was shooting, she was so focused on Red that she hadn't even noticed the team of assailants. She had to act fast. She brought all of her training from Quantico to the forefront of her mind. She laid him against the sidewalk and drew her gun. After the remaining men retreated, she turned to Red who was now unconscious, and felt his pulse. His heart was beating, it was all that mattered in that moment. Dembe dialed Mr. Kaplan while Liz sat trying to get Red to wake up.

Mr. Kaplan was there in four minutes. Liz wondered if she was waiting for this, and what Red had done for her that warranted this level of loyalty. She didn't care, as long as help was there. Mr. Kaplan had arrived with a private ambulance and a fleet of medical workers. They had Red on a stretcher in a matter of seconds. They were putting him on an oxygen tank and tending to his wound.

Dembe turned to her as her phone buzzed. He had texted her an address.

"I need you to go to the Post Office and tell them everything you know, then be at that address immediately. They will question you if you come with me. Don't worry, Agent Keen, I'm with him, he's in good hands."

She knew they needed back up and she didn't want to raise any eyebrows. She grabbed Red's hand and kissed his bloody open palm like he had done so many times with her. He looked up at her as more blood escaped his mouth.

"Liz--zie."

He put his head back and his hand relaxed under her grip.

She had to get out of there before she changed her mind.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Liz had alerted the cavalry at the Post Office. She told them everything--about Tom, the fulcrum, the meeting, Red getting shot. She couldn't believe they let her go. She was now assigned with keeping Reddington safe. She brought a fully loaded SWAT van to the address. The men suited in the back had no idea who they were protecting.

She absentmindedly gave Dembe a hug, he squeezed her tightly--she felt safe with Dembe, Like he was a protective older brother.

"What's going on?"

"He's in surgery. The doctors say it went through his lung."

"Why was Mr. Kaplan ready with all of this?"

"Agent Keen, there are dangerous people after Raymond. We were anticipating an attack, we didn't know it would be this bad. I think all will become clear very soon."

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She had checked with the SWAT leader too many times. There were four armed guards outside of the operating tent along with Red's security. She shuffled her handgun along her bloody fingers, the weight of it made her feel more secure. Dembe eyed the SWAT team cautiously while bouncing his knees aggressively. After what seemed like days but was only a night, the surgeon emerged and went straight to Dembe. He spoke very softly so Liz couldn't hear him.

"Dembe, what's going on? Is he okay?"

"He will be fine, they managed to stop the internal bleeding and repair his lung tissue. He will be down for a while, he may not like that."

Liz cracked as much of a smile as she could. She turned to sit back down and Dembe lightly tugged her blazer.

"Agent Keen, I know that you may not think that Raymond has any friends, but I consider myself to be his closest confidant. He has told me about you two being soul mates. I think it would be best if you go to him now. He is resting, but I am sure yours is the first face he would like to see."

Liz was shocked at how direct Dembe was being, she was even more shocked that Red actually told him. If she felt guilty about leaving when he was shot, her guilt doubled then.

She pulled him into another hug and slipped from his arms into the surgical tent. Red was out cold. He looked so exposed. His chest was bandaged, blonde hair poking out from underneath the tape. His hand was open beside him, the smudge from her lips was still there. She took hold of it and settled in the chair next to him. Looking down at his face, she knew there was no possibility of her leaving now.

She made her choice. She chose Raymond.


	4. More Than You Know

Red awoke to find that Liz had fallen asleep pressed against the back of the chair while holding his hand. The pain in his chest was unbearable, but he smiled lazily at the beautiful sight of his Lizzie. He wanted to savor this moment, store it in his piggybank of memories for when they blended and she found out everything. For when she ran away from his memories.

"Lizzie..."

She jolted awake in a panic.

"Red, what's the matter?!"

"Calm down, I'm alright. Actually, a bit more than alright." 

He directed all of his strength to lifting their joined hands into her line of sight.

"Jesus, Red, you just got shot, now isn't the time to crack a joke."

She hastily pulled her hand away and wiped the blood on his now stained white blanket. 

"I wasn't joking. Lizzie, I think now is the time for us to have a chat about this."

He uncurled his opposite arm to reveal his tattoo. He was downright sick of waiting to acknowledge their connection. Now that he was shot, he knew that she would be essential to his recovery. He could feel the pull when she let go of his hand, it was getting stronger. He knew she felt it, too.

"Red, not n--"

"Lizzie, now."

His voice was strained, broke. She didn't like it. 

"Lizzie, look at me."

She sat up and held his gaze. Her eyes said so much to him--she was tired, covered in blood, but it had to happen. They had to talk, they had to blend.

"We can't keep ignoring this. I need your help right now, and you need mine. The people that tried to kill me are going to come after both of us."

He stopped for a moment to cough. He groaned in pain. 

"I can't risk getting you hurt, and I need to recover as soon as possible. We have to--"

"Blend."

She said it coldly, he had to get used to her completing his sentences, it would only happen more frequently after the blend. He smiled back at her. Despite his pain, he was practically beaming. He didn't think it would be that easy to convince her.

" I wanted to leave, I was ready to never see you again. But somehow between last night and just now, that feeling has left me almost completely. I know hiring Tom is unforgivable, but somehow, I need to be near you right now."

She had worked herself up to tears, he grabbed her hand and intertwined their fingers. 

"It's the pull."

"Red, I don't want to forgive you, I want to leave and never come back."

"But Lizzie, one of us would die."

"I don't care if it's me, and it probably will be, I'm the weaker one. You'll be fine without me Red, you really don't care--you hired Tom, you ruined my life. How could you care? The Blacklist won't redeem you, Red. Even if the terrible things you have done are all rumors, I don't know if I can forgive you for this. I'm only here because I feel like I can't leave. Not because you need me. I gave you the fulcrum and you don't need me here anymore."

While she was talking, Red shifted his electronic bed to a sitting position. He kept grasping her hand tighter and tighter. When she stopped to let out a sob, he began talking.

"Lizzie, I need you to know something right now. You will find out when we blend, but I don't know when that will be. I hired Tom to be your friend, to keep a safe distance while still knowing details about your life." 

He paused to catch his breath. She handed him the cup of water on the hospital tray. 

"Our past connection will soon become clear, but I hired Tom to keep you safe. When I found out that he had become intimate with you, I fired him. He shifted his allegiance to Berlin and betrayed my trust. It was then that I decided to come into your life, I gave myself up for you. I wanted to protect you...to be here to comfort you. I had no idea we were soul mates. I want you to know that I would have done the same even if we weren't

She had pulled her hand back and was now sitting attentively listening to him.

She didn't know what to say. She wanted to leave, but she knew it wasn't an option, either the distance would kill one of them, or the cabal would kill both of them. She didn't want him to die, she loved him too much, and after he had been shot, that love became stronger.

" I do care Lizzie, more than you know right now."

After a few moments, she reluctantly reached for Red's hand, he had been blinking at her while she thought. He turned his hand palm up in acceptance.

He closed the distance between their hands and everything went blank.


End file.
